


The Devil Made Me Do It

by alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Humor, Lemon, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Silly, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:11:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist/pseuds/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist
Summary: by Isabella Kraft--"Look I don't care how many people you've brutally murdered, if you want to see the Lord of Darkness you need to have an appointment!"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

"Look I don't care _how_ many people you've brutally murdered, if you want to see the Lord of Darkness you need to have an appointment!"   
  
The dark cloud form of another pushy condemned soul bristled in irritation and mumbled an incomprehensible amount of curses in his general direction. The demon, for his part, allowed himself to smirk visibly before pointing the dark mass of rotten human ideals to a seat in the waiting room. "Jesus _\--_ serial killers now'a days... draw a couple of pentagrams in their victims blood and they think we _owe_ them something!"   
  
The phone rang; tossing the snake like mass of his hair over his shoulder- wings twitching a little- he picked it up. "Seventh layer of Hell, how may I help you?"   
  
"Duo." The voice still gave _him_ shivers, he could only imagine what it did for humans. Flat, clear, damn near apathetic, yet always amused at the same time.   
  
"Ye--yes boss?"   
  
"Cancel my three o'clock, and if you could....can you please give Heero something to torture for a few centuries..?"   
  
Duo glanced across the room at the dark mass he had just dismissed earlier- now trying to start a revolution in the waiting room. He sighed -- _newbies._ Like he was the first 'bad-ass' to try to overthrow the devil...  
  
"Yeah, sure, no problem. I got one all picked out... What's the matter? He's not bugging you again is he?"   
  
The Devil let out a heavy moan, "I swear God sent him down here to piss me off... He just doesn't get it!"   
  
Duo snickered, "Well that's an evil minion for you. Ummm... what should I tell the Hitler-san... He does get so pissed off when you cancel."   
  
The Devil paused, "Move him back to Friday, and tell him I'm going up top for the rest of the day and if he doesn't like it, well, I hear the orthodox Sabbath ceremonies are quite lovely this time of year."   
  
Duo chuckled, "Oh, you are good, your evilness"   
  
"I know, I know."  
  
\+   
  
Trowa Barton watched the thin trail of smoke waft away from the small stick of rolled herbs and up to the heavens. He made three quick bows in front of the image of Buddha, placed the incense into the pot of sand and began to meditate.   
  
Today he was meditating on water. The Tao Te Ching said be like water. Water is passive, water is gentle, but water conquers, erodes, water is both violent and nurturing.   
  
Be like water......   
  
Water... clear... gentle... patient...  
  
Damn he really had to go to the bathroom.   
  
No, no he must control....Control... Focus.   
  
..................   
  
..........................   
  
No use -- the more he focused on not having to pee, the more urgent his need became. Crap, he was no good at this monk thing. Maybe he should give it up and open a flower shop or something. Flowers were nice. He liked flowers. Maybe he should meditate on that.   
  
Yes, screw water, meditate on flowers. Flowers are pretty.   
  
A storm of giggles interrupted his meditation. "Oh great," he thought. The girls again. Every day a new batch of girls, tugging their boyfriends along to get love charms from the temple. He sighed, his hot breath blowing his hair up away from his face only to have it float lazily back down into place.   
  
Then he got up and did his duty as miko. He smiled, told them elaborate lies about the creation and power of the charms, and took their money.   
  
It was a nice routine. In an amusing little game, sometimes he would tell one girl one thing, then turn around and tell her friend something completely different about the same item. They never questioned him because, well, he was a monk and monks never lied.   
  
"Yes, this here is made with slug musk and horse hair."   
  
"Slug musk!" the girls chirped. "Ewwwwwww..."   
  
"No, no," Trowa assured them. "Slugs are very passionate creatures, slug musk is a very strong aphrodisiac."   
  
The girls blinked, "Really?"   
  
He nodded, and noted with a chuckle that none of them would ever look at a slug the same way again.   
  
He shifted through the next group of highschool girls, listening to their endless chatter and responding to their problems with cryptic quotes from one philosopher or another that really had nothing to do with anything. But the girls all sighed, nodded, and agreed about how very wise Trowa was and how very disappointing it was that he was a monk.   
  
Then an older figure caught Trowa's eye. He was standing toward the back, dressed all in black, the first few buttons of his fine satin button up shirt unbuttoned exposing a certain amount of his smooth pale hairless skin. The creature removed his black sunglasses, lit a stick of incense, bowed three times, then stepped back and just stood there as if transfixed by the smoldering herbs.   
  
That was definitely not a highschool boy, Trowa noted. Oh, his soft gold hair, liquid turquoise eyes, and pale skin gave him the appearance of being young. But his mannerisms, the way he carried himself and stood deep in thought suggested he was much older. Some lingering girls cooed and pointed, giggling and blushing, but dared not approach the mysterious figure.   
  
"Trowa, Trowa! What does this one do?" a frequent customer asked him, tugging on his sleeve like a little lost child.   
  
"Oh that? That's a........good luck charm."   
  
"Honto? How does it work?"   
  
"Well....you put it in your shoe at the end of each day and each day- if you wear those shoes of course- you'll have good luck."   
  
The girl was fascinated, now cradling the charm in her hands like it was gold. "How much Trowa-san?"   
  
"Uhhhhh....for you 1000 yen," Trowa smiled.   
  
The girl blushed deeply and quickly handed Trowa her money, rushing off to tell her friends about her encounter with the hot monk.   
  
"And people call _me_ evil,"   
  
Trowa looked up, the stranger was now standing at his little booth, watching him curiously.   
  
"Excuse me?"   
  
"You just sold that girl a piece of charcoal for 1000 yen..."   
  
Trowa snickered, "Well, to some people charcoal _is_ magic."   
  
The stranger smirked and leaned on the counter, his fingers running over the trinkets and spells displayed there. "I do believe you've been lying about all of this... slug musk," he laughed.   
  
"Can I help you with something, sir?" Trowa asked, wanting to get to the point as quickly as possible.   
  
The stranger straightened immediately, brushing off his black attire, replacing his sunglasses and grinning broadly. "I'm looking for something interesting."   
  
"Ah well... we have a number of lovely charms and--"   
  
"No, I already found what I'd like to purchase."   
  
"All right... Well, what is it?"   
  
"Have lunch with me."   
  
Trowa blinked, "Excuse me?"   
  
"Have lunch with me," the stranger repeated.   
  
"I can't do that... I'm a monk."   
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize consumption of food was forbidden now.."   
  
"Well... it's not... but... I can't leave the temple unattended..." Trowa trailed off, fiddling with the hem of his shirt nervously like the blushing school girls he cheated everyday.   
  
"Come on, be naughty with me," the stranger teased with a lewd wink. "We'll be real quick."   
  
\+   
  
Three "real quick" hours later Trowa found himself discussing religious philosophy with the blonde stranger over a cup of coffee. He found his new companion completely engaging and seductive. Quatre either had similar thoughts, or was a helpless flirt... possibly both.   
  
Quatre Raberba Winner was twenty three years old, a foreigner from what he called the Holy Land- the less holy part of it anyway-, enjoyed music and art, and was in Japan on a spiritual journey.   
  
"You see," Quatre unique voice smoldered darkly. "I'm really quite a religious person, and I've always been fond of the beauty in the Mountains up here." He placed his soft hand over Trowa's at the middle of the table, stroking down the knuckles with a seductive little smirk.   
  
Quatre was _definitely_ a helpless flirt.   
  
Trowa cleared his throat, "Really... I'm not too familiar with religions in that area... Are you Christian?"   
  
Quatre shook his head, "Oh I was for a short time, but the Catholic Church lost some of it's....how should I put this?.....zeal? a while ago, and well Protestants are no fun at all...."   
  
"I see... Then you're Muslim?"   
  
Quatre laughed, "There's a little bit of me in every religion....but no, I think I'm a faith of my own.."   
  
"Ahhh..." Trowa nodded, that made sense. He didn't think Muslims were so....open. "The path to spiritual enlightenment is a solitary one."   
  
Quatre's eyes twinkled brightly, he sighed contentedly and grinned at him. "You're so wonderfully delicious, Trowa."   
  
Trowa blushed and stared down into his shadowy coffee reflection. "Aa..thank you. So.....what do you do?"   
  
"Well.....I suppose you could say I'm a....bureaucrat."   
  
"Aa....so then you work a lot with people."   
  
"More than people like to admit," Quatre snickered.   
  
"A job like that....must get stressful."   
  
"At times," Quatre admitted. "But then that's what evil minions are for."   
  
\+   
  
"Heero, honestly take it from me....I'm your friend."   
  
"Blah,"   
  
"Okay fine I'm _not_ your friend. I hate you, despise you and wish you horrible death, better?"   
  
"Hn.."   
  
"Good....look I know your smitten...but you have to understand---"   
  
"He'll never understand Maxwell."   
  
"Shutup Wufei, don't you have some pagan to tease or something?"   
  
"No, I need Quatre's approval on these plans first."   
  
Duo sighed, pushing his bangs out of his face and glaring at Wufei, "You're running up Hell's budget again, Chang. Suck-up."   
  
"You're just upset that I'm more efficient at being evil then you."   
  
"You are _not_ more efficient at being anything than me!!! How many souls do I make wait in that room for hours everyday Heero?"   
  
"Scores of them, Duo,"   
  
"And what is playing on the TV in the waiting room??"   
  
"Barney....sometimes CNN.."   
  
"EXACTLY! Now _that'_ s evil Chang, don't talk to me about evil..."   
  
"Especially behind Evil's back...it's very rude."   
  
They all turned towards the door to find a very amused Quatre staring back at them, leaning up against the door frame trying to pull off his usual nonchalant style but failing miserably. He was glowing like a small child.   
  
"Hey, High Prince of Darkness. How was your afternoon?"   
  
Quatre strolled in the direction of his office, humming to himself, eyes half close in something of a deeply lethargic haze. "Delightful," he sighed. "I should do that more often. In fact," he said, stopping just outside his door, "I think I will."   
  
Heero wasted no time, "Quatre, great one, how about dinner tonight?"   
  
"Heero.."   
  
"There's a very interesting show on the third layer... something about boiling the skin off unchristian babies.."   
  
"Heero..."   
  
"And, well, I can get us frontrow--"   
  
"Heero... I'm touched, really I am... really... and I don't know how to say this, but I need my space....this friendship really isn't working out..."   
  
"You're breaking up with me?"   
  
Quatre sighed, "Had we been dating in the first place, then, yes, this would be a break up. Heero... I want you to know that I hope we can still be strangers. Now... get out."   
  
"Quatre... We---"   
  
"No, no...see you're missing the point here.... 'We' is now an officially forbidden pronoun. I don't want to hear it ever again. I especially don't want to hear it coming from _you_ with reference to _me_. I'm really not interested Heero... You're incredibly sweet, but let's face it -- I'm the devil."   
  
Heero blinked, "I fell from grace for you..."   
  
"Yes, yes, and it was all quite touching, gave the gossip column a centuries worth of material, but please Heero....go away."   
  
With that Quatre promptly closed his door and collapsed into his highback leather chair. "Fa... I'm the lord of Hell. Like I couldn't get front row seats to a boring old infant boiling if I wanted them..."   
  
A few seconds later Duo poked his head through the door, "Awfully persistent, isn't he?"   
  
"Aa," Quatre nodded. "When's the next scheduled Holy War? I figure I can at least get rid of him when he goes to win souls for me....."   
  
"Uhhhh...sorry there have been some serious delays in the next Holy War... Religious apathy and all..."   
  
Quatre moaned and forced his eyes shut, "I don't know how much more I can stand he so... so... sweet, eck. But not in the cute virginal way..."   
  
At the very thought, Quatre's eyes lit up again and a happy smile spread across his face. He forgot all about Heero as his mind wandered off to a certain green eyed monk...   
  
"Ahhhh... I assume his Evilness had an enjoyable afternoon with the sweet virginal types..."   
  
"Not exactly," Quatre smiled.   
  
"What no orgy?....If you don't mind me saying so, Sir, I think you're in a slump."   
  
Quatre blinked, "Slump? Me?"   
  
"Yes Sir," Duo nodded. "Think about it -- when was the last time you did something truly evil?"   
  
"George W. Bush is in the White House isn't he?"   
  
"Ha...good point....but I mean _historically_ evil.."   
  
"So, what, you want a plague or something? Want me to open the gates of hell and release horrible evils on the world?"   
  
"It wopuld be the social event of the season, for sure.."   
  
Quatre rested back in his chair, "I'll think about it Duo, but right now I have something more simple in mind."   
  
"Like?"   
  
"A conquest."   
  
"Blah, bor-ing! What's one more immortal soul on your trophy case?"   
  
"True," Quatre noted. "But this is a very specially soul."   
  
"Oh my dear sweet demon ass.... You have a crush!!"   
  
One lazy eye popped open. "I do not."   
  
"Yes, you do!" Duo accused. "You're practically glowing! Who is it? Who's the corruptible little morsel?"   
  
"You won't leave until I tell you, will you?"   
  
"Nope! Come on, give me a name I'll pull up his record see what his weak points are!!"   
  
"No, I don't want to do it that way this time. Look at Heero -- I see him standing at God's right hand and all, corrupt him but good, and bang! he's permanently humping my leg. If I have to deal with two Heeros I think I'll retire early..."   
  
"All right, all right, I'll lay off. But who--"   
  
"Trowa... Trowa Barton..." Quatre mumbled. "One gorgeous little monk who will, hopefully, be converting very soon."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Isabella Kraft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

"Trowa Barton, eh?" Duo's candid little smirk flashed brilliantly across his face as he twirled his braid in his fingers- wings twitching with excitement. "And a monk at that. So... what's the big deal? You've corrupted lots of religious types. How's this one so interesting?"   
  
"He is, in a word, striking, one. Two, it's not that he's religious, it's that he's somehow both completely innocent and devilishly cunning -- the type that sins in ignorance.."   
  
"What a poor bastard... innocent as a babe but going straight to hell anyway..."   
  
Quatre twirled his long black pen idly in and out of his fingers, finally resting it on the edge of his lip thoughtfully. "No, God goes very easy on those types... but... I don't know... I suppose I'm curious as to how far one could go and still remain pure."   
  
"Meaning?"   
  
"Oh, his crimes are small, white lies mostly, conning poor innocent girls with their own dreams--"   
  
"Sounds like my kind of demon."   
  
"But his soul is pure."   
  
"Are you sure?"   
  
Quatre snorted, wrapping a few strands of his golden hair around the pen. "Of course I'm sure. You think I don't know a pure soul when I see one?"   
  
Duo surrendered his arms, shrugging the offense off casually. "Sorry, sorry..."   
  
"Yes, indeed. If Trowa Barton were to be struck dead right now, he would go straight to heaven..."   
  
"But not if you have anything to do with it, right?"   
  
"No....no...that's not it at all. You see God's laws have rather tricky loop holes here and there, one of which is if you are not aware that what you're doing is wrong then it cannot be counted against you. I want to see how grand Trowa's crimes can become without corrupting him."   
  
Duo blinked. "For what possible purpose?"   
  
A wide menacing grin the likes of which Quatre had become quite famous for spread across his face. "You have no imagination, Duo. Robbing people of their chance at eternal happiness just to piss off God is getting boring. Think about it -- if I succeed, fifty, perhaps sixty, years from now, Trowa Barton stands at the Pearly Gates, a few murders, rapes, probably a decent crime spree behind him and they have to let him in anyway."   
  
The small realization of what that meant took a few minutes to process in Duo's evil little mind. When it finally hit him, he looked as if he had reached some higher form of ecstasy. "Sir... You are one evil bastard..."   
  
"Yes, yes that I am. It's a win-win situation really. If it can be done, we rock the foundation of the heavens and who knows what kind of delightful chaos will be released in the process. If I fail, well then I have Trowa Barton's immortal soul as a souvenir."   
  
"So?! So?! When do you start this little project? And can I watch?"   
  
Quatre smirked, "Tomorrow night, and no you cannot watch....at least not when it counts."  
  
\+   
  
If Trowa Barton had trouble focusing before he met Quatre, it was impossible for him to accomplish it after. The strange man somehow had weaseled his way into Trowa's brain, chibified perhaps, and attached himself to the backs of Trowa's eyes so that everything he saw reminded him of the unusual guest.   
  
Every thought was captivated by the presence of Quatre. Every calculation dedicated to decoding the foreigner's fascinating allure.   
  
The fall leaves made patterns that looked like Quatre....   
  
Hey, look -- that gold leaf actually looks like Quatre!   
  
Trowa picked up the leaf, turning it over in his finger. It was dying, as all tree leaves do, but its skin was still soft, like Quatre.   
  
Trowa hadn't realized how much imagery the world held day through day. Until now he had no idea how much everything reminded him of Quatre....and well that probably had a lot to do with not having known Quatre before.   
  
There was a figure walking up the stone paved mountain path to the shrine. He looked like Quatre, Trowa thought as he continued sweeping the leaves off the pathway.   
  
"Hello, Trowa,"   
  
The broom flew out of his hands as his legs instinctively jumped away from the sound. It was a carefree, soft, yet openly seductive voice. More specifically it was Quatre's voice.   
  
"Uhh..Hell--lo!" Trowa fumbled, feeling his voice raise about an octave. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his head, trying his hardest not to look like an idiot. "Ummm...back again?"   
  
Quatre laughed and took a rather offensive and teasing step forward, which Trowa countered by stumbling back a few paces. "I want you to have dinner with me tonight."   
  
"M--me? Again?"   
  
"Yes, you.... I find your company so delightful, and frankly, as a foreigner, I don't know many people here or the lay of the land. I figured you could show me a good time."   
  
The suggestive overtones in Quatre's request made Trowa squirm. The man had an unearthly appeal to him, something so strange, so foreign that Trowa was drawn fatally towards him as if he were the hot fires of light that eventually slays the foolish moth. Trowa could not refuse the request and he silently nodded to his delighted companion.   
  
"Oh good, I was afraid you'd say no," Quatre grinned. Then he looped Trowa's arm with his own and trudged the monk down the path toward civilization   
  
"We're leaving ...n-now?"   
  
"Just walk with me a little," Quatre said softly, and again Trowa was helpless to refuse.   
  
It must be his exotic appearance, Trowa figured. Or his charms, there's just something... magical about him.  
  
Quatre's eyes were glowing with excitement as he chattered on about his homeland and job. "It's very stressful sometimes, all these people wanting different things from me, begging for mercy..."   
  
"Begging for mercy?" Trowa repeated.   
  
"Ahhhh... yeah... Well, I have a rather vicious line of employment," Quatre fumbled, scratching his head and smiling brightly at Trowa.   
  
"Ohh....."   
  
"And, well, I've been around for a while, I know how the business is run and I get all these newcomers who want to change this, alter that. They want everything to be done on _big_ , like apocalypse big. They don't realize I've been through all that, it gets boring after a while. They haven't learned to enjoy the simple pleasures like......ahhh.... dealing with the individuals...."   
  
Trowa nodded, "Many people are too focused on the big picture now'a days...."   
  
"Hmmmm..." Quatre nodded then he pressed the side of his face up against Trowa's arm and nuzzled him affectionately. "It's so nice to be able to come to a place like this where everything's so peaceful and cool...."   
  
Trowa tensed and fumbled with a response, "Well...ahhh....I hear it's quite hot down there...."   
  
He was surprised at the reaction that yielded from Quatre. The young man nearly froze, pulling away from Trowa and casting him a cold suspicious look, "Have you?"   
  
"Ahhh....yeah...well...it's hot in the desert right? Didn't you say you were from around there?"   
  
Quatre blinked, his pupils contracted until it seemed like his was staring at his own nose, and then laughed. His body abandoned its sudden chill quickly. "Oh..yes, yes I suppose it _is_ really hot down there."   
  
Trowa felt relieved. The idea that he had offended Quatre in some way had terrified him for reasons he couldn't quite explain.   
  
They soon found themselves walking down the main road in a small town. This was a modern road - not like the ones they had been walking before - dirt paved, old worn paths. Walking down the cement street, with Quatre's hand intertwined affectionately with his own, he felt a strange sensation of peace.   
  
He liked Quatre   
  
He liked him a lot   
  
"Quatre...." he said.   
  
"Hmmm?"   
  
"When do you go back?"   
  
Quatre blinked and stared at Trowa through blank, vacant, almost opaque eyes. "Huh?"   
  
"To the desert," Trowa elaborated.   
  
"Oh..... OH! Ummmm...Why?"   
  
It was an excuse to avoid the question; after all, he didn't want to set limitations on himself. He didn't want to tell Trowa that he was staying a week only to find out that it would take more time to seduce him.   
  
"I just... I don't know... forget it."   
  
Inwardly Quatre snarled. He had a feeling this was going to be a bit more tricky than initially planned. Although what he had planned in the first place was beginning to allude him now that he was in Trowa's company. He wanted to trick Trowa, but he also wanted to _be_ with him. The feeling of the other man's blush was so clumsily exotic. He wondered if he could take Trowa home with him just once.   
  
No, he scolded himself. People do not just pass through hell and come out unfazed. It would ruin everything.  
  
But wanted to.....he really, really wanted to.   
  
It wasn't long before Quatre spotted something to distract him from his naughty thoughts about Trowa and get him back on track with his plan. A small delicate shop sat on the side of the road, flanked by other stores though set apart from them by the very nature of its appearance. It was an old shop and seemed somewhat strangely unique resting in-between the rows of modern shops. The other buildings appeared as if they had all been cast in the same mold. They had the same structure, same design, and the same colors. It was only this small antique store that opposed their conformity.   
  
Quatre excitedly tugged Trowa towards it.   
  
"Come on! Come on! I want to find something to take home with me."   
  
"Besides you," his own thoughts added.   
  
Trowa didn't put up too much of a fight, and soon they were gazing at rows of old costume jewelry. Pretty glass beads strung on old cords glistened in the midday sunlight that had managed to penetrate the dusty old glass windows of the shop. It was all wondrously delightful to Quatre. Even though it was all fake, it reminded him of the days when he was still young; years filled with empires and outstanding treasures. Those days were long gone, their treasures filtered and refined until only the highest quality remained. It was never the actual riches of that time that made life grand, it was the illusion, the promise of wondrous things that were to be had.   
  
Time, science, competition had taken away that wonderment. Now a diamond was not just a diamond, it was a certain amount of carets and a certain level of purity. Some riches were greater than others.   
  
He longed for the days when life was more flamboyant. Humans were always about appearances. They wanted the shiny things to show to their friends as a symbol of status, but now they would not accept just any shiny things. It made life so........dull.   
  
But the beads, as glass and worthless as they were, seemed to him to be the most opulent objects he could behold. Heavily polished, brightly colored, they couldn't have been worth more than a few dollars.   
  
But still......   
  
The pads of his fingers rubbed over a string of bright teal spheres. They were so smooth and felt so good rolling over his soft skin. Without a second thought he slid it over Trowa's wrist.   
  
Trowa looked down at him, curious, but said nothing when Quatre did not acknowledge his interested. Instead the blond dragged him over to another corner of the store to look at the antique tea sets.   
  
\+   
  
"What is this?" Quatre inquired hesitantly as he poked the cylinder shaped rice roll that had been presented to him as food.   
  
"Eel," Trowa answered between munches. "Try it, it's good."   
  
Quatre made a face, his eyes squinting closed and his tongue peaking out of the corner of his mouth. "Eel?....Ick..."   
  
"No, it's really very good," Trowa assured him, pushing the roll towards him. The unpaid for beads slung around his wrist clanked together happily. "Try it."   
  
Quatre continued to poke at it with his chopsticks-- utensils he had so far failed to master, "Primitive people...eating with sticks....heathens," he mumbled. "This is how we eat where I come from."   
  
He gripped the chopstick in his fist and speared the center of the roll with it, swiping it off the plat and ripping the helpless morsel off the chopstick with his teeth.   
  
Trowa just stared at him.   
  
"Actually," Quatre said thoughtfully. "The eel isn't that bad."   
  
\+   
  
"Heero let me give you some advice as a friend..."   
  
"We're not friends, demon!"   
  
Duo rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at the irritable ex-archangel, his horns appearing to twitch slightly. "All right, fine.... Then as some one who stands to gain a great deal through your success....."   
  
Heero turned up his nose and continued his patient vigil by Quatre's door.   
  
"Oh you idiotic jackass! Do you know how long I've been standing by his Darkness' side? No one knows him better than me, and yet you're going to ignore me when I'm offering you the key to his heart!!!"   
  
Heero considered this for a moment, then stared at Duo coldly. "Go on," he commanded.   
  
Normally Duo would have told Heero off, then refused to say anything more about the secret he held from him. But in a very rare moment he had told the truth -- he _did_ stand to gain a lot from this, everyone did. He didn't like the direction Quatre's plans were leading. Sure, it was delightfully evil, but after careful consideration he realized something -- Quatre, was actually going to encourage someone to make it into heaven. This small fact overshadowed the details about Trowa Barton's impending crime spree. He didn't like it. This new mission could be a individual adventure, or it could also be a whole new chapter in Hell.   
  
A really bad chapter.   
  
"Listen, Heero....God you are so completely dense....Now let's start from the beginning.... Who is Quatre?"   
  
Heero snorted, "Don't insult my intelligence demon. Quatre is the most beautiful creature to ever have existed."   
  
Duo sighed and slapped his forehead, "No idiot...I mean what _is_ he? _Who_ is he?"   
  
"Ohhhh.....Satan of course."   
  
"Right.... Now given that, did it ever occur to you that the Prince of Darkness may not be too big on the flowers, candy and love poems?"   
  
Heero blinked. "What are you saying?"   
  
Another sigh, "Look, angel boy, get this through your head. Quatre's got two horns and a tail, all the way. He likes to trick little grannies, ruin royal families, and generally start huge blood feuds whenever possible. He likes his men bad. I mean B-A-D. Really gets off on it. So give it up, because courtship to this kid goes something like this -- you torment him, he tortures you with all the wonders he has in the fires of hell.... eventually you fuck like rabbits and the cycle repeats itself."   
  
"I can do that," Heero replied calmly.   
  
"The hell you can...." then leaning closer to Heero he added with a smug little smirk, "you haven't got the balls for it."   
  
Heero's eyes narrowed dangerously.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Isabella Kraft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

"When I was a kid...I remember not liking my family at all," Quatre said slowly, fighting for words that would wrap up his....abnormal, to say the least, upbringing into normal, unsuspicious terms.   
  
"Why was that?" Trowa asked gently, stroking the soft bangs out of Quatre's face.   
  
Quatre smiled, looking up at the soft green eyes that held him captive from his position resting in Trowa's lap. Why did he feel so happy here? So at peace, so wonderfully open, so... comfortable?   
  
"Well I had a lot of brothers and sisters...there were seven of us, I was the eighth, the youngest."   
  
"Did they pick on you?"   
  
Quatre laughed, "No quite the opposite, my family is so very... _nice_. I was always the trouble maker."   
  
"Aaa," Trowa nodded as he scratched the back of Quatre's head, making him purr like a kitten. "When did you leave home?"   
  
"A while ago.... My father and I got into a huge fight -- I challenged his authority and I lost. My oldest brother told me not to come back. So I stuck it out on my own, and made myself a reasonable success...."   
  
"Your parents must be proud of you," Trowa said softly.   
  
Quatre snickered, "I highly doubt that."   
  
"Why's that?"   
  
"My parents are.......ummmmm..... extraordinarily strict. My very existence seems to be a challenge to them. I know for certain my father doesn't approve of the methods I've used to achieve what I have."   
  
"You've been dishonest," Trowa noted.   
  
"That's the understatement of the eon," Quatre chuckled.   
  
"I'm sure they'll forgive you..."   
  
Quatre smiled, if only Trowa knew exactly what was being confessed to him, "What makes you say that?"   
  
"Because inside you're a good person."   
  
The words made a tiny part inside Quatre snap. He sprang out of the comfortable little niche he had crafted in Trowa's lap and tightened his fists until they were white. He was losing control. How could he? What was he doing telling some stupid little human all about his past? What was he doing opening up like this? He had let himself become weak.   
  
What the hell was wrong with him?   
  
Suddenly he really wanted to hurt Trowa. He wasn't sure how, but the overwhelming peace the clumsy monk gave him infuriated him to the point of madness. He wanted to hurt him, he wanted to show him how "good" he was inside...he wanted to hurt him so badly that he would never even think of looking at him again.   
  
But no...no....that would ruin everything....calm down Quatre....stay focused.   
  
"Quatre what's wrong?" Trowa asked gently, his hand resting on Quatre's shoulder.   
  
"I.....I...no it's nothing...."   
  
"Really Quatre....I want to help. Let me help please?"   
  
"You can't help Trowa....I just....I don't know..." Quatre sighed. He couldn't do this. Hurting Trowa would be satisfying at first and then when he realized that the far greater pleasure had been ruined he would regret. It was best to control himself and tolerate whatever Trowa's qualities did to him.   
  
"Come on," Trowa said quietly, pushing himself off the ground and away from the tree. "Talking about your family has clearly upset you, let's go do something to take your mind off it."   
  
Quatre smirked, "You know what I do that really helps?"   
  
Trowa shook his head.   
  
"I break stuff."   
  
"Quatre," Trowa said hesitantly. "Isn't this a graveyard?"   
  
The question was loaded with curiosity and confirmed the statement Trowa had made beforehand; that he really didn't know much about Western religions at all.   
  
Because they were, in fact, in a Christian style graveyard.   
  
"Don't be silly Trowa, look how old and unkempt everything is. Does this look like a place people bury their respected dead?"   
  
Trowa looked around, his doubts still clearly written on his face, "I guess not...but....still."   
  
"They're just old sculptures Trowa....mere junk to the people....see? That one's overturned. If this was holy ground, wouldn't they keep it in better condition?"   
  
"I....guess so....I mean you would know better than I."   
  
Quatre nodded sagely, "Yes, yes I would."   
  
Trowa looked like some tourist who had suddenly been thrown from the busy streets of Tokyo to a small rural area without warning. He had the most bewildered look on his face, like he was searching for anything of even the slightest interest to photograph as a monument. Quatre chuckled, curving his hand around the estranged head of an angel and throwing it a good five feet straight into a tree.   
  
It made a satisfying shattering sound that startled Trowa out of his stupor. "What was that?"   
  
"Therapy," Quatre answered, wrapping one arm around Trowa's waist and nestling his chin in the corner between Trowa's neck and his shoulder. Trowa, jumped at the intimate touch, blushed and skidded away from him.   
  
"Q-Quatre...."   
  
Quatre smiled and closed in on him again. "A little stressed Trowa-chan? Why don't you try it?"   
  
Trowa swallowed as Quatre's hand gently covered one of his own.  
  
"It's wonderful treatment for.....frustration."   
  
A sharp "Eep!" exploded from Trowa's mouth as Quatre squeezed his hand just a little. This time he jumped at least a foot or two away, panting slightly, eyes confused and troubled. "Quatre... you're trying to seduce me...."   
  
Quatre sighed comically and winked at him. "Is it that obvious?"   
  
The bewildered monk could only nod silently.   
  
"Does it offend you?"   
  
There was a considerable pause as Quatre had hit upon the question that really had no answer. Slowly Trowa shook his head. "It's just....that...you're leaving soo--When are you leaving again?"   
  
Damn, damn, damn, DAMN!!! Quatre thought. Seeing it as his only escape from a question he really thought best not to answer, Quatre turned up the seduction just a notch slipped his arms around Trowa's neck and said happily, "It doesn't matter."   
  
Trowa stepped back a little, his nerves failing him. "Quatre....I don't think...I mean...this isn't a good id--"   
  
"Of course it's not a good idea," Quatre grinned, drawing his face closer to Trowa's and sliding a thick rock into his hand. "No one said anything about it being a good idea...But it makes you feel so good inside to see something shattered and broken and to know that you broke it. These thing are worthless Trowa-chan ... there's no harm in breaking them. Don't think of it as destroying it ... think of it as creating something new."   
  
Trowa blinked, "What are we talking about now?"   
  
"Here ... see that cross right there?" Quatre pointed.   
  
"Yeah..."   
  
"Throw the rock at it as hard as you can," Quatre purred.   
  
All it took was one gentle squeeze of Trowa's rump and the young monk's subconscious neatly obeyed. Trowa was funny like that -- catch him off guard enough and he'd spontaneously do anything that would 'resolve' the situation.   
  
Quatre leaned up to nibble on Trowa's throat, and the tip of his tongue just barely touched the salty golden skin as the shattering sound rang again in his ears. He expected Trowa to pull away, he did not expect the skin to fall practically on top of him as Trowa passed out.   
  
Quatre blinked but quickly supported Trowa's now limp body, sighing heavily and rolling his eyes. "Trowa you idiot."   
  
\+   
  
Quatre placed another cold cloth on Trowa's forehead, patting it down a little to make sure the skin absorbed it. He wasn't altogether sure why he was doing this since he didn't particularly think that having a cold, wet head helped fainting any, but it was one of those silly little things he had seen humans do to the unconscious. He figured if nothing else he was keeping with the proper tradition.   
  
Trowa groaned and stirred a little. Quatre watched his eyes flutter open quickly and his hand automatically coeme to rest on the bridge of his nose ... apparently another tradition of the occasion. "Quatre?" he asked slowly.   
  
"Yes, I'm right here."   
  
His gentle, soft hands stroked Trowa's bangs away from his face as Trowa asked his next question, "Where am I?"   
  
"Back at the temple..." Quatre said.   
  
"Wha---How did I get back here?"   
  
How indeed. Never let it be said that the Dark Angel didn't work his ass off on his little projects. Shortly after Trowa fainted he found himself at a loss at what to do. They were in the middle of nowhere, and Trowa presented a considerable dead weight being both taller and of a broader build-- though not by much-- than Quatre. At first he tried to revive him, but when that failed he had no choice but to bring him home. And that forced him to get a little _creative_.  
  
Ok, _very_ creative ... being the devil had its perks.   
  
"Ummm ...how are you feeling?" Quatre dodged.   
  
"All right... better than before." Trowa blushed as he remembered the exact circumstances of 'before' and fiddled nervously with the edge of the light blanket Quatre had covered him with. "Look Quatre... I'm sorry about-- what happened."   
  
"You don't have to apologize," Quatre said evenly. "I understand, you're not in to this kind of thing..."   
  
"No, that's not it at all Quatre..." Trowa said softly.   
  
"Oh?" One beautiful thin blond eyebrow questioned him. "Then if I didn't scare you, why the fainting?"   
  
"Well.....you did scare me....but only because... I think I'm in love with you, Quatre..."   
  
A pause, then softly, "You shouldn't say things like that, Trowa."   
  
"Now who's afraid?"   
  
"I'm not afraid, but you shouldn't say things like that..."   
  
He leaned forwarded a bit, "And why's that?"   
  
"Because," Quatre said sadly, then moving in on him until their noses touching he whispered, "it makes me really horny."   
  
He let loose an amused chuckle as Trowa's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates and shattered just as well when Quatre added, "Maybe we should be a little naughty."   
  
For a brief moment Quatre thought Trowa might actually faint again as he was swaying awkwardly. But Trowa managed to blink it out and mirror Quatre's trademarked smirk perfectly.   
  
For a second Quatre panicked, evil grins were generally speaking not good signs. Perhaps he had taken it a bit too far...   
  
"Okay," Trowa said.   
  
"Excuse me?"   
  
"Okay, take me. Right here. Right now..."   
  
He felt his jaw slip and fall open. He wasn't sure how to respond to that, other than fuck Trowa silly without anymore questions. Something was preventing that, though. Some kind of attachment he could quite figure.   
  
"Gotcha." Trowa winked, laughing hardly and grinning like the fool he undoubtedly was.   
  
Quatre blinked then scowled and curled his legs up to his chest, pouting just slightly as he spoke. "Tease. And to think that I took care of you."   
  
Trowa, still snickering, patted Quatre softly on the head. "You just can't take a joke."   
  
"Hm!" Quatre snorted, flipping his bangs out of his eyes and turning up his nose. "Not when it's at the expense of my libido, no." He paused then added, "But you must be hungry Trowa I'll go get---"   
  
The bashful monk grabbed his hand before Quatre could leave his side. "No, stay.... I just confessed that I'm in love with you. You have no idea how paranoid it makes me when you just make up excuses to leave."   
  
"How is my concern for your nutrition an excuse?"   
  
Trowa's voice suddenly lost its playfulness. "Quatre..... if you don't feel the same, I understand. Just please don't string me along...."   
  
Quatre looked down quickly, his mind trying to comprehend the frenzy of emotions spinning through his soul. He fidgeted as he felt Trowa staring at him, waiting, and each moment of silence was certainly ripping his quarry away from him. "I'm not sure how I feel, Trowa. I feel something for you, I admit that much. But I've made my fortune crushing love _out_ of people. I wouldn't know it if I felt it....and I certainly don't deserve it now."   
  
"Don't say that," Trowa soothed as he brushed Quatre's bangs away from his face. "You deserve it just because you've never felt it before."   
  
"Oh Trowa.. If only you knew..."   
  
"I do know," Trowa said as he pulled Quatre to his chest, embracing him lightly but tenderly. "You're Quatre Winner, and I'm in love with you so there's nothing you can do about it."   
  
Quatre snickered and sighed, "You smell good... like incense... Me like."   
  
"Good to know."   
  
Quatre leaned closer, rubbing his nose between the slight definition of Trowa's pectoral muscles. "Ummmm....me really like. Wonder what you taste like." Little licks followed that. Small kisses as Quatre moved up Trowa's neck, then down again.   
  
"Uhhhhhhh.....Quatre...."   
  
The floor was cool and hard and to Quatre much better suited for sex than the soft futon Trowa had been resting on. Of course he liked his sex dirty, or at least he had until lately when his thoughts he been invaded by fantasies about kissing Trowa, stroking, and....   
  
Quatre pulled back, taking up Trowa's soft hand with his own. His thumb began running little circles over Trowa's knuckles, bringing them to his lips soon after and licking each one gently. His tongue barely ran over the skin.   
  
Soon his mouth wondered down to Trowa's long elegant fingers, swallowing them slowly and sucking lightly. Trowa moaned and tried to pull his finger away, wanting to direct Quatre's interest elsewhere. Quatre grinned and bit lightly. "Now, now...I'm going to take my time with you," he whispered.   
  
The light growl that rolled over those words made Trowa swallow and lick his lips eagerly. He was nervous, that much was obvious, but Quatre liked it that way. Virgins were always so much more fun, he thought with a smirk.   
  
He caught Trowa's lips with his own as he gently worked his hand under the soft cotton of Trowa's shirt. He parted their mouths slightly and licked the bare edge of Trowa's bottom lip. If fell open obediently with a small sigh and Quatre forced them together again so that his tongue could explore the walls of Trowa's mouth.   
  
He curved the tip of his tongue under the soft belly of Trowa's, his hand reaching a pert nipple at the same time. Trowa tensed up, a small gasp escaping him. Quatre grinned and scooped his arm around Trowa's back, keeping him relatively still. His fingers slowly rubbed one nipple in tiny circles, barely touching it.   
  
Trowa shuddered with pleasure as his shirt was removed and Quatre straddled him, pressing his hardness up against him. There was something forceful and conniving about Quatre now. Something cold and withdrawn keeping him away from Trowa's touch.   
  
Yes, that was it. Quatre was pulling away from him.   
  
With every kiss, every stroke, every small pleasure Quatre was pulling further away from him. He was delivering intimacy with coldness.   
  
"Quatre," Trowa panted out. "Stop."   
  
For a moment Quatre didn't even hesitating in _not_ stopping. He pinned Trowa's arms above him and continued licking and nipping the sensitive skin before him. But a small whimper that escaped Trowa's lips must have made him reconsider his action, because he sat up and moved off him.   
  
Trowa took in Quatre's expression, trying to figure out exactly what was wrong. He seemed puzzled, but not with Trowa's sudden request. He seemed more puzzled at himself.   
  
"Quatre..."   
  
"What's wrong?" Quatre asked very quietly. His voice was firm, and made cold by the lack of emotions running through it.   
  
"I want you, that's what's wrong."   
  
"I was _giving_ you me," Quatre snorted, a trace of annoyance in his voice.   
  
Yes, Quatre was definitely running from something. Perhaps he was nervous? Trowa smiled, the sort of smile he give naughty children when they were wracked with guilt and crawled over to Quatre. He ended up supporting his weight just above Quatre's form with his upper body.   
  
Quatre looked up at him with wide bewildered eyes. He was dressed in black as always-- three buttons had been undone in their foreplay though, exposing soft creamy flesh-- legs parted and weight shifted back on his arms as he reclined casually.   
  
"What are you doing?" he asked. He had intended it to sound cold, but he had lost any conviction in his voice.   
  
"Kissing you," Trowa breathed as he slowly closed the space between them, taking Quatre's lips gently.   
  
He felt Quatre relax and watched his blond lover's confused turquoise eyes slide closed blissfully. This lasted only a few moments before Quatre's senses returned to him and he pulled back so violently he fell out of Trowa's arms.   
  
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What are you trying to do Trowa? Are you going to save my soul? Are you going to love me until I forget what a demon I am?   
  
"You're good, you know. I keep forgetting who I am..... I have a reputation to uphold you know? There are certain things I just can't do, certain things I just can't _feel_."   
  
Damn him, Quatre thought, he thinks he knows, he keeps giving me this knowing little smile like he understands...  
  
"You can feel them here," Trowa assured quietly. If he was hurt by Quatre vicious tone, he gave no indication of it. It infuriated Quatre even more, to have someone love him so much. "I can keep your secrets here for you. There's nothing you can't let yourself feel."   
  
"Except love....I can't fall in love, I can't fall in love, I can't..." Quatre repeated to himself. Squinting his eyes shut and burying his face in Trowa's chest his fists pounding weakly on Trowa's shoulders.   
  
"Goddamn you, you just don't understand.. You just don't understand that you're not supposed to love me. You're suppose to worship me, adore me, devote yourself to me, but you're NOT SUPPOSED TO LOVE ME!!!!"   
  
"Why not?" Trowa asked softly. "I like loving you. You're a nice person to love. It's fun."   
  
Moments passed before Trowa realized that Quatre was laughing. "Fun, huh? No one's ever said that before Trowa. What's so fun about loving Sat---me?"   
  
Trowa smirked, his lips barely touching the tip of Quatre's ear as he whispered, "Will you let me show you?"   
  
Quatre's eyes glittered with mischief. "Trowa, you are one naughty monk," he teased.   
  
"I'll consider that a yes," Trowa remarked as he lowered Quatre to the floor and began undoing the buttons to his tailored black silk shirt.   
  
"I won't let you get away with this," Quatre teased. "I shall have my revenge."   
  
"Oh?" Trowa asked in between kisses. "And what will that entail?"   
  
"I'm going to take you home with me and fuck you senseless.."   
  
Trowa laughed, "to pay me back for taking _you_ home and fucking _you_ senseless?"   
  
Quatre didn't respond to that, he didn't want to admit that he wasn't dominating Trowa, and that he was enjoying it. Satan the uke....God, if that got out he'd never live it down.   
  
The slight brush of Trowa's hands over his hardened cock suddenly changed his focus. Trowa was clumsy in a wonderful, wonderful way. The soft pleasure Quatre got from Trowa desperately trying to get his pants off was sinful.   
  
"You could help me here," Trowa growled in his ear.   
  
"No, I'm fine," his blond partner smirked. His fingers seeped under the soft fabric of Trowa's pants and teased the soft flesh on his hip gently. "You look a little flushed, Trowa. Sure you don't want to lie down?"   
  
Trowa devoured Quatre cocky smile before responding. "Not a chance. You're my guest remember?"   
  
"Ahhh...that's right the pleasures of serving, huh?" Quatre said as he discarded his pants and slid under Trowa.   
  
"No underwear?" Trowa asked curiously.   
  
Quatre shrugged, "I was planning on getting laid today."   
  
"Oh really?"   
  
"Yes really," Quatre said as he nibbled on Trowa's chin. "I'm not tied down to you or anything, and there's always so much sexual tension between us. If I don't get some relief soon I'll probably explode."   
  
Quatre was much more effective at stripping what remained of Trowa's clothes. Before long they were both bare on the naked wood floor. There was a chill on their skin, but it was quickly overtaken away by the flush of heated bodies. Trowa loved the closeness of feeling Quatre all over him. The warmth, the pressure, the feel of living skin moving over the very edge of himself...   
  
The need was insistent. Foreplay was short.   
  
"Quatre, I don't really--"   
  
"It's okay," Quatre smiled. "I'll be right back."   
  
Trowa watched Quatre plod off in all his naked glory to points unknow. He found himself admiring Quatre's firm ass instead of wondering what he was doing digging through the closet.   
  
Quatre returned with a small container of oil. He had done this enough times to know creative things to use for lube. This time, though, he was happy that he could find a bottle of simple clear lamp oil. He really wasn't in the mood for peanut butter tonight.   
  
"Give me your hand."   
  
Quatre took Trowa's hand and smeared oil across his fingers, lightly as not to rub it in, and settled himself down on the floor. "Stick them in."   
  
"Excuse me?" Trowa blinked.   
  
"Stick. Them. In," Quatre repeated, more firmly this time.   
  
Hesitantly, Trowa rubbed Quatre's tight hole, surprised when it relaxed easily and one finger slid in.   
  
"I'm not exactly a virgin, Trowa. Now just stick another one in and stretch it a little. That should do the trick."   
  
Trowa could feel his cheeks swell and flush. "I don't need you to instruct me," he mumbled between gritted teeth.   
  
Quatre laughed, "Oh yes you do... I saw that look on your face. You wouldn't know what end to stick in if I didn't tell you!"   
  
Trowa blushed deeply and in his haste ended up pushing his fingers harder into Quatre. Quatre laughter was abruptly cut off by sharps moans. "Oh...Trowa...do that again."   
  
"What now?" Trowa asked hesitantly.   
  
"Oh wait, what's this? Trowa Barton sexual expert wants _me_ to inform him how to fuck me good and proper?"   
  
"Oh, shut up. They didn't exactly train me in this."   
  
Quatre smirked wildly and stroked Trowa's bang, laughing again. "Were you expecting an FAQ? 'I have my lover all lubed up and two fingers up his ass what do I do now?' "   
  
Trowa scowled.   
  
"Oh, you're so testy when you're horny," Quatre exclaimed. He blinked and then exploded with laughter at his own pun.   
  
Trowa's frown deepened, "I'm glad you find this funny..."   
  
Quatre smiled and kissed Trowa softly on the lips. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Now, I'm ready so you can take out your fingers." Despite his words, Quatre moaned at the loss of Trowa's presence inside him. "Now....just... Oh goddamnit, do I really have to explain this part to you?"   
  
"No," Trowa laughed. "I think I got it.... That's it?"   
  
"Yes, please for the love of all things holy just fuck me!!!"   
  
Trowa's erection pushed up against Quatre's small hole gently, almost as if he was entering a thin ring of crystal. Quatre sighed impatiently and pushed up against him, sliding him in just a little further. "I'm not going to break."   
  
"O....K....sorry."   
  
"Don't apologize."   
  
"Ehh....sorry."   
  
"Stop apologizing!!!!"   
  
Frustrated Quatre grabbed what he could of Trowa's hips and pushed him forward, impaling him on Trowa's cock. "Ahhhhh..," he sighed happily. "That's what I'm talking about. Now move."   
  
Trowa didn't need any clarification on that. Quatre was squeezing him so tightly he thought he might go insane. He moved deep inside Quatre, increasing his speed with each thrust. Going deeper, harder, faster. He could only barely hear Quatre moaning under him, his senses were so flooded with pleasure.   
  
Quatre smiled and took Trowa's hand in his own, guiding it down to his swelling erection. Trowa followed his lead and began pumping hard, almost too lost in his own sensations to have any idea the effect this had on Quatre who was writhing in pure pleasure.   
  
He felt a warmth building up inside of him. It was pleasant at first but soon grew so intense it was almost painful. His toes tingled. It was like electricity was being run through his whole body. He cried out and felt himself release with a sudden shutter.   
  
Quatre was panting below him, dazed and satisfied himself. He wiggled out a little, then pulled Trowa down- resting Trowa's head on his chest- and dozed off.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Isabella Kraft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

It was well into night when Quatre slowly moved his lover's body and began searching around for his clothes. He was careful not to wake Trowa, but it was inevitable given their entangled position.   
  
"Leaving?" Trowa yawned. His sleepy eyes tried to blink out the fatigue but failed and fell shut again.   
  
"I have to, love. I have....business." Quatre assured. "Trowa?"   
  
"Mmmm?" Trowa asked, too tired to convince him to stay. His deep green eyes opened again, more alert this time but still cloudy.   
  
Quatre hesitated. It should be easy to say it. He had heard it spoke between lovers over and over again. In those private moments when they thought that they were alone. He had said the words himself, or at least a twisted, offensive and misleading version of them. He had conquered an angel with them. But somehow.....one clumsy, innocent monk and he couldn't say it "I... lo---like your hair."   
  
Trowa blinked and ran his hand through his bang- as if checking to see if it was still there.   
  
"No...no that's not what I meant to say.....Ummmm...Trowa...I want you to know something before I go....I...I...." he sighed and collapsed next to his quite bewildered lover. "Let me tell you this way...... I used to be the most beautiful angel in the heavens Trowa--"   
  
"You still are," Trowa smirked.   
  
"Don't interrupt me," Quatre frowned. "....I used to be the most beautiful angel in the heavens and the only thing that was every important to me was that everyone knew how great I was. Even after I was thrown from the heavens, the only thing that was important to me was showing the world how amazing and all powerful I was. I wanted to make everyone sorry that they hadn't acknowledged my greatness from the very beginning.....But now.....Trowa, what I'm trying to say is that.....you're more important than that to me."   
  
The silence of night was his reply. Quatre swallowed and waited for Trowa to realize he was done. The look on Trowa's face was of pure confusion at first, then finally he smiled and snuggled up to Quatre's chest. "I love you, too."   
  
\+   
  
The next morning was unusually brilliant for Trowa Barton. Nature seemed to be engaged in an elaborate dance with him. It was all like some beautiful festival.. His chores were games of chance, his worship was street performances for the crowd, even the usually obnoxious school girls were different in a magical sort of way.   
  
"Hey, you."   
  
Trowa swept the last bit of dust off the stairs and smiled broadly at the figure calling to him.   
  
"You're Trowa Barton?"   
  
Trowa blinked, "Yeah.."   
  
"Quatre sent me," he man replied coldly, inviting himself into the temple by pushing harshly past Trowa. He mumbled something under his breath as he scanned the area. "This place? I can't believe he'd choose you over--"   
  
"Can I help you with something?" Trowa asked.   
  
"Yeah, Quatre sent me."   
  
"You said that already. You know Quatre?"   
  
"Would he send me if I didn't know him?" Heero snapped.   
  
"Ummmm...okay... let me rephrase that.. Why did he send you?"   
  
"He wants you to meet him at work."   
  
Trowa frowned, "What for?"   
  
"I didn't ask," Heero replied coldly. "Said something about dinner. Do you know the Nakamachi Bldg., 2-5-22 Nakamachi?"   
  
Trowa nodded slowly. "That's where he works?"   
  
"Go there, and take the first elevator to the basement. That's where Quatre's office is. When you get there, just give them your name and they'll let you in to see him."   
  
\+   
  
Trowa didn't spend much time in the city. He didn't like it much here, perhaps it was the noise, or the stench of so many spiritually deprived people and their long forgotten ancestors, but somehow Tokyo made him nervous.   
  
Of course, it could also be being a tourist in a land where people preyed off of tourists.   
  
The Nakamachi Building wasn't as difficult to find as Trowa assumed it would be. Even he who had little experience in the city could spot the tall elegant structure. He walked into the lobby, feeling instantly quite silly among the parade of workers racing back and forth. They seemed to glare at him as if saying "get to it already!"   
  
Trowa lowered his head, almost ashamed of his "simple country" ways and headed immediately toward the elevator. Quatre works in the basement? he thought curiously. That doesn't seem right with what he told me....don't executives usually have big offices on the billionth floor?  
  
He shrugged and pressed the elevator button. It didn't matter if Quatre had exaggerated his position with his company. Quatre was Quatre.   
  
When large gold gates opened before him Trowa immediately stumbled back. _This_ was the elevator? He hadn't seen restaurants this lavishly furnished. Gold trim, cream color silk like wallpaper, and carpeting that he could only suspect was made of red velvet.   
  
Wishing not to look like anymore of a fool than he already had, Trowa quickly stepped in and pushed the "Close Door" button, then the "L" button, which he hoped would take him to the right floor.   
  
"L.....Lower level right?" he told himself.   
  
The soft hum of Eleanor Rigby was playing as the elevator clicked its way down. Trowa found himself humming along. It was a sad song but it had a certain quality to it.... He wasn't sure what to make of it.   
  
Then the doors opened. It was a sudden movement or perhaps it was just the assault of strange sounds and lights that made him jump. He glanced around the area. This sure as hell didn't look like any basement he had ever seen. It was downright bright, but not an artificial bright, more like the light produced by a million candles. Light that clung hopelessly to every corner of the room...   
  
He could hear the sounds of labor being performed not too far off. The groans and moans of manual labor, or what Trowa thought was manual labor at least, and the occasional scream. Trowa could not be sure of this last one though, everything was so muted by an offensive office type buzz that he couldn't clearly hear it. The distance pounding and the strong voice ordering 'next' at steady intervals. What the hell do they make down here? Trowa thought.   
  
His thoughts were cut off by the sharp 'thwammm' sound that flopped around in his head as it was hit by a stray flying ruler.   
  
Wait a minute, flying ruler?   
  
"YOU!!!" an irritated male voice screamed after him.   
  
Trowa jumped, and quickly picked up the ruler- placing it back on the desk of the Chinese man who had apparently flung it at him. "Huh?"   
  
"I said.....NEXT!!!!"   
  
"Oh....that's me?"   
  
The Chinese man regarded him coldly and without amusement. Immediately Trowa found himself thinking that the man's hair must be tied too tightly to create such a scowl, but then... people were different in the city. He supposed that unique veins-popping-out-of-skull look was something of a corporate trend around here.   
  
The man tapped his fingers in irritation. "Oh, you're a real good one...what'd you do?"   
  
"I'm sorry?" Trowa blinked.   
  
"Well, they don't send you down here because of the brains.... What did you _do_?"   
  
"Oh...I'm here to see Quatre."   
  
The Chinese man sighed and sat down his much abused red pen. "Look here, I know you think that you're being creative or smart or whatever and that you're just going to explain everything to 'Dear old Quatre' and he'll give you a position at his right-hand...blah...blah eternal reign, all that stuff. But you're not the first soul to come here with that idea, so just accept it. Up there you were bad, down here you're nothing... not even to Quatre."   
  
He reclined back into his chair, "Now let's see if you can follow this. Since you can't seem to recall what you did to end up here, _you're_ going to give me your name and _I'll_ tell you were you belong... UNDERSTOOD???"   
  
Trowa swallowed nervously and nodded, "Yes, sir."   
  
Wufei sat back, satisfied and smugly took up his red pen. Adjusting his reading glasses he began scanning a list on his desk. "Good... Now you're name is?"   
  
"Trowa Barton."   
  
The red pen fell out of Wufei's hand on rolled across the floor. "What did you say?" he asked, quieter this time, trying to blink the shock out of his eyes.   
  
"Trowa Barton, sir."   
  
For a moment nothing was said. Wufei's mouth hung open and Trowa fidgeted nervously, trying to figure out what was so shocking about his name.   
  
Wufei's hand slammed down on a button marked '7' on his intercom.   
  
"Hello Seventh--"   
  
"Duo, this is Wufei..... we have a situation..."   
  
"Well you know, Wufei, you get paid enough to take care of these types of problems by yourself without Quatre's help. Hel,l you get paid more than I do, so I think in light of that his Darkness should only be informed of 'situations'that are of interest to him--"   
  
"I promise you this is of _great_ interest to him."   
  
"Sure, sure that's what they all sa--"   
  
"DUO!!!!" Then in a failed whisper he shot back, "Trowa Barton is here."   
  
The com unit went silent. Wufei glanced nervously back and forth between Trowa and his desk, trying to remember the procedure for this...trying to remember if there _was_ a procedure for this.   
  
"I'm sorry. Wufei. Must be a com problem. That sounded a lot like you said Trowa Barton was here."   
  
"I did....and he is."   
  
"Are you sure?"   
  
"No, I'm not sure!!"   
  
".....Then.....what does this mean?"   
  
"Ummm..." Trowa broke in. "Quatre said he wanted to see me... if this is a bad time I could come back--"   
  
"Okay! Okay!" Duo chirped happily. "If Quatre invited him down here then there's nothing to worry about. Send him on in!"   
  
"Are you sure about this.... I mean.... His not dea-- and this is _Quatre_."   
  
"Yeah, yeah no problem."   
  
By the time Trowa had walked down the seven flights of stairs that it took to get to Quatre's personal office there was a uneasy calm presiding over the seventh layer of Hell. In the interim Duo had happily reported to Quatre that his pet was here to see him. When Quatre asked him what the hell he was talking about, Duo blinked and explained that Trowa Barton was on his way down.   
  
Thirty seconds of utter chaos were released as a result, as Quatre spat out his coffee and angrily demanded to know who was responsible for that. Duo for once was speechless, stumbling over 'buts..' and 'I thought's...' and a whole bunch of things.   
  
"Well," Duo said nervously. "It's not the second coming or anything... So Trowa's still alive and now walking among the-- err....stairways of hell. Someone screwed up, you probably mentioned something that lead--"   
  
"I most certainly _did not_ , " Quatre snapped. "I never talked about my work with Trowa. It's absolutely impossible that he found the gateway to hell by stringing together a couple details I gave him."   
  
"All right, all right... I've never seen you this furious boss....just calm down. I know you're obviously upset about losing this pet project, but rules are rules. He's in Hell now, he can't leave, and you can't bend the rules just so that he can get into heaven."   
  
Quatre drummed his fingers silently, "I'm going to find out who did this,"   
  
Duo swallowed, "And what will the punishment for that poor soul be?"   
  
Quatre blinked, "I have no idea.... But I'll think of something."   
  
"I was afraid you'd say that.."   
  
That took place about the same time Trowa was racing past the fifth layer of hell. Only a few seconds later Quatre had apparently swallowed his rage in the hopes that the situation could still be salvaged if handled properly. Of course there was that tiny problem that Trowa, a mortal and very much alive, had entered the forbidden land from which there was no return...   
  
But he would deal with that later. Damn his own rules, if he couldn't break them who could?   
  
He waited patiently outside his office for Trowa as Duo fiddled with just about everything on his desk six or seven times. "Uhhhh...Boss?"   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Remind me again what kind of great unspeakable evil we're aiming to unleash by getting Trowa into heaven?"   
  
"You have doubts," Quatre stated.   
  
"Well.....frankly, yes. I mean.... I'm watching the best of the best doing things that I normally would associate with, I dunno....the good guys?"   
  
"Duo?"   
  
"Yeah, Boss?"   
  
"Shut up."   
  
He nodded, "Okay. I suppose that's fair...."   
  
Further conversation was cut off by Trowa's immediate rush through the door. He nearly collapsed upon entering, panting and coughing.   
  
Not good, Quatre thought. He knows something's wrong... he rushed down here.  
  
Still Quatre slipped on his brightest smile and walked over to the momentarily crippled Trowa. "Hey you, what a nice surprise. What are you doing here?"   
  
He coughed a little more then straighten some and asked, "How far underground are we?"   
  
Inside Quatre frowned, outside though he remained cheerful and level headed. "Far. How did you find this place, Trowa?"   
  
Trowa blinked, "I got your message."   
  
"My message?" Quatre asked between gritted teeth.   
  
"Yeah....you sent that guy...."   
  
"What guy?"   
  
"........Ummmm...I didn't get his name, he was kind of curt with the whole thing. Dark hair, dark blue eyes...little skinny--"   
  
"Heero," Quatre growled. "What, he's playing the jealous lover now?"   
  
Duo shrugged and tried his best not to look Quatre in the eye.   
  
"I'm sorry..." Trowa said. "I guess I misunderstood something. You're obviously busy so--"   
  
"No, no Trowa, it's all right. I'm never too busy for you." Quatre began guiding him into his office as forcefully as he could manage short of dragging him.   
  
The phone rang.   
  
Duo stared at it and slowly picked it up off the hook. "Ummmm...hello, PizzaHut how may I help you?"   
  
"So.....nice place you have here," Trowa began lightly, taking in the lush surroundings. Quatre's office was certainly rich that was for sure. "But why is it underground?"   
  
"Aghhhhh....it's.......cooler down here?"   
  
Trowa nodded, "Maybe.... But why isn't there an elevator straight down? Why the elevator then the stairs?"   
  
He couldn't do this, he couldn't keep doing this. Oh he could lie to Trowa, he could lie all day to his lover. But it hurt too much to even think about doing that. The strategic and vicious part of Quatre reasoned that it was counterproductive to lie to Trowa since those lies would enviably come undone. Yet....   
  
He loved Trowa. He didn't want to lie to him.   
  
"Trowa," Quatre sighed. "The truth is.....this isn't a job."   
  
"Oh?"   
  
"This is Hell."   
  
Trowa smiled, "Well, if you feel that way about it, why don't you just quit?"   
  
Quatre blinked, "What?......No, no Trowa you misunderstand.....this.... _is_....HELL. As in the place, as in eternal damnation, as in where naughty dead people go."   
  
Trowa hadn't stopped smiling yet and for a moment Quatre wondered if perhaps he was in shock. "This is Hell.." he repeated.   
  
"Yes...." Quatre confirmed slowly.   
  
"Am I dead?"   
  
"No.....not technically..."   
  
"So I'm just passing through then?"   
  
"Errrrr....something like that...."   
  
"And you are?"   
  
"Uhhhh..." Quatre twiddled his fingers and cleared his throat. "I guess you could say that..... I'm........ The Devil."   
  
Trowa smiled broaden considerably, "pleasure to meet you Mr. Satan are you going to punish me?"   
  
Quatre blinked again. Was Trowa....?.... Was Trowa trying to seduce him? Here? Now? Was he insane? "Trowa?"   
  
"Oh come on, I'm not that innocent," Trowa teased, reaching out his hands and pulling Quatre closer.   
  
"You're...not?"   
  
A trace of concern hit Trowa's face as he shook his head, "This role-playing stuff can be very romantic and---"   
  
Quatre groaned, "You nitwit," he mumbled. "Come with me."   
  
"Where are we going?"   
  
"I'll show you how elaborate this role playing really is,"   
  
After the sulfur pits and the torture chambers. After Quatre had pointed out the intricate mosaic patterns of human bones he had paving the small pathways he used to supervise things. After Quatre had shown Trowa all the different layers of hell and who went where, and babbled on a great lengths about the souls that were not yet fully his in the areas of purgatory and limbo.. After all of this Quatre stood in front of Trowa in the lobby in the first layer, quietly assessing Trowa's reaction.   
  
"You're...."   
  
"The Devil," Quatre repeated.   
  
"And this is..."   
  
"Hell."   
  
"And you want...."   
  
"Well," Quatre sighed. "I haven't quite figured that part out yet."   
  
".....Quatre.....you lied to me."   
  
Quatre frowned, "When?"   
  
"When? When!?!? When did you tell me you were the great figure head of unspeakable evil!?!?!" Trowa exploded.   
  
"When did I tell you I wasn't?" Quatre snapped back. "I _never_ lied to you, you just heard what you wanted to!!"   
  
Trowa paused, his hands compressed into fists. "What is this, Quatre? What am I? Some kind of conquest? What is this, the divine forces of the universe just having fun with my soul??? I'm not even Christian!!"   
  
"Corruption is an equal opportunity parasite," Quatre replied coldly. "And no, you're not just a conquest to me Trowa. I never lied to you, not once...."   
  
"You told me you lived in the desert."   
  
He smirked, "Is there any land more barren than the house of the damned?"   
  
"After all this time....after all of this.... I have no idea who you are! You twist these words around so that you convince me that I'm wrong and you're innocent of everything but you've never been innocent of anything."   
  
"You're acting just like the rest of them," Quatre snarled.   
  
"And so are you. I couldn't possibly have any meaning to you--"   
  
That hit a nerve. "What the hell do you know about that?" Quatre snapped. "You're right you know, I have no reason to care about you. I should just stop right now. Well, fine, Trowa. Go back to your temple and break enough hearts to send you straight to heaven!"   
  
Trowa huffed and stormed back into the waiting elevator. Wufei called after him but Quatre waved the door closed with an irritated snarl. "Let him go."   
  
"But Boss..." Duo began. "The rules say--"   
  
"I said let him go! I hope he gets into heaven just so I never have to see him again!!"   
  
Wufei and Duo blinked in sync. "Boss...." Duo said slowly. "We're concerned..."   
  
"About what?" Quatre snapped.   
  
"Well.....and I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason for this... but you sounded like you.... well you sounded like you were a bit attached, ummmm.... a bit _more_ attached to Trowa then you let on."   
  
"Meaning???"   
  
"You didn't lie to him?" Wufei asked skeptically, a trace of contempt in his voice. "You _care_ about him? Pathetic."   
  
"What was that?" Quatre roared. "How dare you insolent brat, criticize _me_...."   
  
"Woah, woah, Sir...." Duo said stepping in between the devil and his minion. "Look I think what Wufei is trying to say is.... maybe you need a vacation."   
  
"A vacation?!?!"   
  
The elevator door opened up behind him with a condescending *ding*.   
  
"Yeah....I think the stress has gone to your head, Sir. You think you're in love with this Trowa.... Well you've been worrying us for a while now, so myself and Wufei talked it out... And we decided that it's in the best interest of the underworld if you....took a break."   
  
"Took a break..." Quatre repeated. "What are you getting at Duo?"   
  
"We can't have the devil developing _mercy_ now can we? You haven't been nearly as evil as you used to be." Wufei snapped.   
  
"Well, he's a homosexual, so obviously he's still _a little_ evil," Duo nodded, "But nevertheless this is for your own good.... Bye!"   
  
"Bye--?" His question was cut off as two pair of hands pushed him roughly into the elevator behind him just before the doors closed. Quatre sat on the soft velvet floor, totally shocked and watching in horror as the elevator began in slide up. "Hey!!!" he screamed. "You can't do this to me!!!!"   
  
+  
  
Well it just turned out that they _could_ do this to him, Quatre realized as he blew the steam from his mug of hot chocolate. "I've lost everything...." he mumbled. "I don't even know where to begin, or if I should begin at all."   
  
"I'm sorry..... about what I said.... and about getting you kicked out of hell," Trowa replied soberly.   
  
"Yeah..... I'm sorry about staining your immortal soul....."   
  
Trowa shrugged, "Like I said, I'm not Christian...."   
  
The wind blew lazily threw Quatre's hair, which seemed very heavy and depressed lately, as he took another sip of his drink. "Well.... I suppose I could become a lawyer."   
  
Trowa nodded, "You'd be very good with that."   
  
"Trowa...?"   
  
"Aa?"   
  
"I meant it before.... I really do love you. Doesn't that suck? I have convinced millions of demons that love was the most horrible thing in the world and then what happens?" he laughed. "Still....I meant it. I do love you."   
  
"And....you can never go back?" Trowa asked weakly. It was a sensitive subject and the last thing he wanted was to upset Quatre.   
  
Quatre shook his head, "Nope..." Then his eyes glittered like they had been set on fire and he exploded with laughter. "Trowa! Trowa! Do you know what this means??"   
  
Trowa dumbly shook his head, "No. What's the matter?"   
  
"I'M GOING TO HEAVEN!" Quatre shouted in between giggles.   
  
"You....you... Can't they do something?"   
  
Quatre shook his head, giddy with excitement, "Nope, nope. I've been officially banned from Hell and Purgatory. And you know what they say...'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'? They _have to_ let me in. God gets really pissed when souls don't cross over....And if one did crossover and didn't have anywhere to go, they have let him in...that whole 'I was hungry and you gave me food' clause."   
  
"I didn't realize heaven was so anal."   
  
Quatre nodded happily, "Oh it is, it is.....But it will be wonderful, my love. Imagine you and me in eternal bliss together." He laced his fingers with Trowa's, "I love you."   
  
"I'm glad," Trowa smiled. "But what do we do until then?"   
  
Quatre's laughter subsided and he stared very solemnly into the sunset they were overlooking. "I don't know.... I suppose I'll have to find a job..."   
  
"I was thinking," Trowa began. "A while back, that is..... I'm really not very good at this monk stuff, I was thinking of opening a flower shop."   
  
Quatre grinned and nodded, "I like flowers. Flowers are pretty."   
  
And so the devil and the monk went into business together selling pretty flowers to people in a completely secular way. And they lived happily ever after. The moral of the story is obviously....   
  
Crime doesn't pay, flowers are pretty.   
  
Although.....I suppose you could also claim that the moral of the story is....   
  
Religious devotion doesn't pay, flowers are pretty.   
  
Conclusion, flowers are pretty.   
  
Epilogue:   
  
St. Peter looked over the never ending line of those wishing admission to heaven with irritation. He always got the crappy jobs didn't he? One of God's chosen ones his ass. Since when was maintaining a never ending line of people considered an honor?   
  
And the dental plan sucked, too.   
  
"All right, you two. Stop bouncing around like that... you're shaking the clouds here. Now...." he skimmed through his large book. "Ah yes, here we are...Trowa Barton and Quatre Raberba Winner," he studied the book carefully. "Well....the records here are.....unusually vague....but you two seem to be in excellent spiritual condition. Very pure, only slight blemishes for----"   
  
St. Peter blushed and quickly dropped the subject. He adjusted his glasses and stared down at the two candidates. One of quiet and calm with a slight smirk on his face, the other was practically bouncing on the clouds. This wasn't a particularly unusual response for souls going to heaven, it was just the blonde one seemed exceptionally pleased with his status. The kind of happiness that one did not see from candidates too often. Too many people thought they were entitled to go to heaven, rather than hoping and praying that it would happen. St. Peter smiled -- these kind of things made the job worth it. "You there..." he looked down at his book. "Quatre is it?"   
  
Quatre froze and gazed up at St. Peter with the biggest most innocent eyes he could muster. "Yes, sir?"   
  
"Have I seen you before? You look so familiar...."   
  
"N-no sir! I've never, ever, ever been here before...never."   
  
"Well....I must be thinking of someone else then....all you mortals look alike after a while."   
  
"Yes, sir," Quatre nodded.   
  
"All right," St. Peter concluded. "Everything seems to be in order here, you can go on in... Congratulations."   
  
The blonde one screeched with joy and proceeded to drag the quiet one threw the golden gates. "Dad! Dad! I'M BACK!!!!!!! MWHAHAHAHA!!!! Trowa let's go play in the ball pit!!!"   
  
-The End-


End file.
